"Death doesn't discriminate from the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes."
Sherlock's POV
Nothing in my life could've prepared me for this, I'd never seen such a horrific scene. Blood was still spilling from her, coating the ground in its warm thickness. It made lazy red rivers on the pavement. Her usually warm eyes were glazed over, unseeing, unrelenting. Her body was a mangled mess, beaten and bloody. One arm jutted in the wrong direction, a deep gap lay in one leg. Two words were carved onto her torso, slurs. Dyke. Negro. My stomach heaved at the sight of her.
Olivia was dead.
I knelt beside her, hearing the crunch of gravel behind me as John ran up. He gasped when he saw her. I couldn't tear my eyes off of her, her young face still and lifeless. She was dead. We hadn't been quick enough, and she was dead. John knelt beside me, in front of her, as tears began to prick the backs of my eyes.
"No," I whispered, horrified. She'd only been dead for an hour if that. Only a half a mile away from us. From Alice.
Alice. Oh dear God, no. Alice couldn't see this, she can't handle this. She'd lost so much in her life, in the past couple of years, but Olivia had always been there for her throughout that. And just like that, she was gone. 17, the oldest she would ever be. 17, and dead.
The familiar teenage voice sounded behind me, along with the chorus of agents voices. Telling her to go back, to leave. I stood quickly, turning around. She was breathing heavily as if she'd run here. Her chest was heaving, her dark hair a disarray. Two agents were grabbing Alice's arms as she begged to be let go, begged to see her. And then she saw me. Saw John. Saw the mangled body at our feet.
The scream was horrific, a shrill screech of anguish that no human should ever have to make. I didn't think anyone could make such a sound until she did. My stomach dropped at the sound. And now that sound will forever replay in my mind, over and over. There was no escape. Her mouth was opened wide as she screamed, kicking and pulling. The agents had grabbed her arms in a desperate attempt to keep her from seeing it.
But there was no escape from the horrific scene there, no escape from the terrifying guilt and loss that we were all experiencing. Especially Alice. "NO!" She shrieked, writhing. She yanked one arm free and pulled it back. Fast as an adder, she swung her fist into one of their faces. He reeled back, letting go of her in the process.
And then she was running towards us, towards the mangled body at our feet. She flung herself down next to her, sobbing. "No, no, you can't be, you can't be," she cried, over and over again.
Alice brushed the hair out of Olivia's face, tears spilling down onto her still face. She lay her head on her chest, shaking as her body was wracked with sobs.
Her entire world came crashing down, shattering into a million pieces. A million pieces that would never be whole again.
Jack's voice was heard, calling for his sister, desperate. He came crashing through the trees, stopping dead when he saw us. Eyes trained on his little sister and the girl at our feet. His eyes went wide and he sprinted the rest of the way to Alice. He fell to his knees beside her, pulling her into him. She gripped him tightly, guttural shrieks still coming from her.
Tears were falling freely from my face as my chest tightened and tightened, and ever spinning spiral. I fell to my knees again, crumpling to the ground. My hand covered my mouth, a cry of anguish escaping my throat.
My lip quivered and I looked around at the scene. Other than Olivia, not much was out of the ordinary. There was a path of gravel that led from the front of the station back here, to a pavement lot. Blood splattered the area around, staining it red.
The clear night was cool, eerie. The stars seemed to shine more brightly as if even the heavens were weeping.
"You can't be dead, I love you." Alice's horrified whisper sent me crashing back to reality. I held my hand out to her. Jack squeezed her shoulder as she took my hand in her own, much smaller by comparison. The two of us held her as she cried, and cried and cried. She eventually let go of my hand and began stroking Olivia's hair. A string of blubbering sounds escaped her, and she leaned down to kiss her, one last time.
But Olivia was still as the night, already gone from this world.
I felt a strong hand on my shoulder, lifting me up. I stood, letting myself get spun around and into John's waiting arms. I wrapped my arms around him and slumped against him. I could feel hot tears running through my hair as he cried too.
She was gone.
The lovely singer we'd all known and loved was gone. Dead. All because we had failed to protect her. If I'd figured it out sooner, she would be home, safe and sound. Laughing. Smiling. Alive.
Peeking over his shoulder, I saw as all the agents were stood together, silent and still as we all mourned. Jack still held his sister, their dark hair blending together. A faint cry was heard and Afiba's voice came floating through.
"No! It can't be! Let me see her!" His voice cracked as he ran through, still dressed in a business suit.
Nneoma was not far behind. She screamed when she saw her daughters broken body. Afiba clutched her, gasping.
Nneoma ran to her daughter, shrieking with grief and shock. I broke away from John, still holding onto his hand. I moved to go to Nneoma when Afiba spotted me. Tears slipped down his cheeks as he pointed an enraged finger at me. His other hand clenched into a fist, eyes burning with a murderous rage.
"YOU!" He bellowed and lunged.
I did not move as he tackled me to the ground, landing blow after blow. Pain shot through my nose and I barked. I deserved it though.
This was my fault, I wasn't quick enough. Wasn't clever enough. My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault! MY FAULT!
John's POV
Sherlock made no move to protect himself as Afiba threw him to the ground raving. "YOU DID THIS TO HER! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" Sherlock only yelped in pain, still not even raising his arms.
Jack and I were already moving, grabbing Afiba by the arms. We pulled him off of my husband, even as the screaming continued. Agents were helping us and continued to hold him back as I ran back to Sherlock.
I helped him into a sitting position as he held his hand over his nose. Blood seeped through his fingers, mixing with his tears. He barely looked at me, eyes fixed on Afiba. "I'm sorry," he croaked out. Afiba didn't say anything, just wept on the ground. A broken man.
"Jesus, Sherlock," I whispered, gently prying his hands away from his nose. It wasn't broken, but blood was still streaming out. I cupped his cheeks in my hand as his eyes trained back on me. "I know," I rasped.
"She's gone." His voice broke, and my resolve did too. I pulled him against me, both of us grieving. Looking over his shoulder, I saw Nneoma clutching to her child, gathering her in her arms. She wailed, having lost the one thing unimaginable in her mind.
I'd loved Olivia too. I'd only known her for a short while, but one couldn't help but love the amazing person she'd been. Brilliant. Caring. Kind. With a heart ripped in two, I couldn't fathom what Alice, Jack, Nneoma, and Afiba were going through.
Losing a seventeen-year-old child wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to lose someone that young. They were supposed to live a long, healthy life. They were supposed to go to college, follow their dreams. They're supposed to get married, have kids, travel the world. They're supposed to live.
The next few hours were hazy, between bandaging a blubbering Sherlock, getting questioned about what had happened, and watching the lives of four people get destroyed.
Alice was transported to another safe house, with even more agents to guard her. Jack went with her to make sure she would be okay by herself. Sherlock and I were on our way home, transported by Mycroft's personal driver.
Sherlock was staring ahead, mind spinning. His head was resting in my lap, his hand clutching onto mine. My other hand stroked his hair, unsure of what to do with the gap in my heart.
We arrived home, and we both went inside reluctantly. Not wanting to acknowledge that the day was over, that this is what the day had become. Mrs. Hudson, to my surprise, was waiting for us.
"Mycroft called. Sherlock, I am so, so sorry." She engulfed him in a hug, and he began to weep again. She rubbed his back soothingly, repeating comforting words over and over again. She pulled me in as well, and the three of us stood, unable to move. Eventually, she tore away, gently instructing Sherlock to go change into pajamas for the night.
When it was just the two of us, she turned to me. Her own eyes shone, though she hadn't particularly known Olivia well, just met her a few times in passing. "It reminds me very much of what happened to Victor. The poor thing jumped in front of a car. Sherlock was broken hearted, I imagine Alice dear is going through much of the same. I imagine you're in a lot of pain too."
I nodded, unsure of what to say. I'd nearly forgotten that Victor had died so incredibly young, how this must not only hurt because of Olivia but because of Victor too. She pulled me in for a last hug before telling me to go join him. I wished her goodnight and went to join Sherlock.
I found him lying in bed, now in pajama pants. I crawled in beside him, wrapping him in my arms. My fingers stroked up and down his spine, grazing over the scars.
"How's your nose?" Though it hadn't been broken, it had been pretty bloody. He would have some bruising on his cheek and back from being thrown to the ground, but he'd be fine.
"Sore, but I'll be fine. Don't worry about that," his voice was soft, barely audible. I stroked his hair and pressed a kiss to his temple.
"I know this hurts. I know," my voice cracked but I continued on. "But this was not your fault. This is Paul Stewart's fault, and his alone. And we're going to go in for questioning, and we're going to find the bastard who did this. And he's going to pay."
He nodded, utterly exhausted and filled to the brim with grief. He sighed shakily, and let his head fall on my chest. We were both asleep within minutes.